


Formal Request

by shapinguptobeprettyood



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Face-Sitting, Fingerfucking, consensual bruising
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-08 17:51:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3218090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shapinguptobeprettyood/pseuds/shapinguptobeprettyood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first night Ben and Leslie spend together. Directly after Road Trip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Formal Request

**Author's Note:**

> My first parks fic and my first swing back into smut writing. Thanks to my lovely for beta-ing and dealing with my bad jokes <3

_“Get away from me.”_

_“Sorry.”_

_“I'm sorry.”_

_“Sorry.”_

_“I'm allergic to fingers.”_

~

As soon as he stepped in the door, he had it shut again and her pinned against it. “I parked down the block, and I may have broken a couple basic road laws? I'm not super sure.”

“Just shut your perfect mouth and kiss me again.”

With a quick nod Ben covered Leslie's mouth with his own, noting how she now tasted vaguely of whipped cream instead of the earlier heavy-sugar-coffee taste. Either way it was a taste he relished in. His fingers wove into her hair, drawing her closer as his kisses got progressively sloppier. He could feel the first twitches of arousal already. God, he was impatient. It felt like he was a bottle of Coke and someone had dropped an entire pack of Mentos in him. (Maybe that wasn't the best analogy, but at least it was accurate.)

Leslie was trying to get his tie off, he noticed, with minimal success. She finally gave up and just aggressively unbuttoned his shirt. A button popped off and she mumbled, “Sorry,” against his open mouth. He sighed as her hands ran over his bare chest, groaning as her thumbs brushed his nipples.

His own hands ghosted over her torso, gripping the bottom of her shirt, grateful for the lack of a blazer. Once he had pulled it over her head he threw it in the general direction of the couch he had seen for a split second upon entering her house.

“Fuck...” he murmured as he took in the sight before him. The deep purple of her bra contrasted nicely with the pale flesh of her breasts. “This sounds cliché, but you're so gorgeous, Leslie.”

She smiled as her cheeks and ( _oh my god_ ) her collarbone flushed. “I'm glad we didn't do this yesterday, I was wearing my least sexy underwear.”

He had it in his head to say “impossible” but that thought was quickly derailed as she reached behind her to unclasp the bra and threw it somewhere near her shirt.

“Oh god, Leslie,” he choked out, reaching for his belt. “I'm sorry but these pants are so tight I'm probably going to die if I leave them zipped.” Her hands quickly joined his and together they jerkily pulled his belt free, leaving Leslie able to attack the front of his pants.

He grabbed her wrists when she tried to shove both hands into his boxers. “If you do that right now you will be less than impressed with me.”

Reaching for the button of her own pants, she huskily whispered, “Impress me, then.”

With a groan, he leaned forward to kiss her again, fingers bumping in their rush. He was about to slip a hand into her panties when the idea struck him, making him pull back slightly.

“I thought you were allergic to fingers.”

Leslie froze. “Oh... my god, _Ben!_ ”

He waited until mid-cackle to push the rest of the way down, her gasp sending a surge of blood straight to his groin.

“Well,” he murmured, “You're certainly having some sort of reaction.” It was actually surprising just how slick she already was, how soaked her panties were. As he trailed softly over the length of her, she leaned back against the door, head tilted back as she gripped his upper arms. He took the opportunity to step between her legs, feeling the motions of his hand against himself.

It was unbelievable that this was happening. That he, Ben Wyatt, was fucking her, Leslie Knope, against her front door. To try and combat his awe, he plunged two slick fingers into her opening, swallowing down her breathy groan amidst another fierce kiss. He wanted to remember every second of this; her walls contracting around his fingers like a velvet vice, the moans in the back of her throat, the heavy breathing that made her breasts press against his own chest, even the slight cramp in his wrist. He was doing his best to keep a steady rhythm to his stroking, but she had begun writhing beneath him.

“Ben,” she gasped, pressing their foreheads together. She slid her hand down his arm to connect with his dick through his boxers.

“Christ, Leslie,” he said as he pulled him from his confines, starting up a rhythm to match his.

He pressed the palm of his hand into her clit as he stroked despite the protests from his wrist. He knew he had her when a long stream of “fuckfuckfuckfuck” began slipping from her lips and then she was coming around his hand, her walls gripping his fingers until she was dripping down over his knuckles and her grip on his dick tightened a bit roughly.

It was the long, low moan of his name that shoved him over the edge, and he locked his mouth onto hers as he came; on her stomach, on her hand, on his own arm. He slumped forward, cock still twitching in her grasp as he slid his hand out of her and wound it around her back. His ears roared.

“I'm so sorry,” he gasped. “You're just so...” He exhaled slowly. “Much,” he concluded.

She raised her clean hand and ran it through his hair. “Oh my god, don't apologize, that was so hot.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I think you should take your pants off immediately.”

He wobbled on unsteady legs as he scrambled to finish disrobing, and she followed suit.

“Leave the tie,” she said seductively, wrapping it around her fist. “How long do you need for round 2?”

Cupping a breast and running a hand down her side, he responded, “Fifteen minutes? Seven or eight if I can eat you out.”

Her heart rate spiked with those words combined with the heated, hungry look in his eyes. “Deal. Upstairs. But I wanna walk behind you.”

~

She was glad that she told him to walk upstairs ahead of her, in all honesty. She’d only ever seen his butt in his pants while he was walking away from her at work, and this time, Ann wasn’t here to make fun of her for staring. Oh god, she had to call Ann. Or maybe something a little more fancy? This was a pretty big night for her. For both of them.

No, calling Ann could wait. Right now she was about to go to town on technically-her-boss and it was going to be great. Plus, it would be a little weird to call Ann while they were both covered in each other’s bodily fluids.

Also something she needed to address.

“Hey, Ben?” she said while half-jogging up her stairs.

“Yeah?” He stopped on the top landing, and took her hand, drawing her against his chest.

“I’m just gonna take a couple seconds to clean up. Because, you know… you kind of came all over me.” She gestured towards her stomach. “So. Yeah. You probably should too?”

“Good idea.”

She desperately hoped that she hadn't left anything potentially embarrassing on her bathroom counter, and huffed out a small sigh of relief when they entered the bathroom and everything was in its place. Grabbing a washcloth from the small wire basket next to the sink and wetting it, she hurriedly cleaned up. Ben was currently being very distracting, his hands running back and forth over her bare ass and his lips on her neck.

"We're not having sex in the bathroom," she declared, trying to catch his eyes in the mirror.

His only response was an argumentative grunt and a stinging nip to the muscle of her neck. She wordlessly handed him the washcloth and he rubbed the evidence of the previous fifteen minutes away.

"Now get in that bed, Mr. Wyatt."

He gave her a grin and eagerly kissed her while walking down the hall, letting her steer them to the correct door. Her bedroom was dimly lit as a result of the open curtains, but the lighting wasn't exactly a priority to either of them. She pushed him back onto the bed so he was seated on the edge, and then promptly straddled him, throwing one arm around his neck and firmly grasping his tie with the other hand.

"I believe we had a deal," he reminded her, his voice low and heavy. "I want to taste you. I want you to sit on my face."

Hearing that statement come out of his mouth was enough to make her shiver. He could probably feel the heat of her center against his thigh, and he could definitely feel how wet she was. Ben's voice coupled with dirty phrases was intensifying everything. She was literally dripping.

"How do you want me to move for this? Like, what position? I've never really done this before." She internally winced at that. Inexperience was not sexy when you were in your mid-thirties.

"I'm going to lay back," he said, "and then you're going to straddle my face. And then I'm going to fucking devour you."

He looked so intense and lustful that she found herself pushing him down on the bed and hurriedly moving up his torso, helping to rearrange so the back of her thighs rested on his shoulders and his arms curled around her thighs.

She briefly worried about him being able to breathe properly, but then he ran his tongue over the length of her and it was all she could do to keep from falling over. He kept it slow, soft and rhythmic at first, but as soon as she uttered his name, he surged up and stuck his tongue into her opening.

"Fuck!" Leslie gasped, one hand threading through his hair. "Oh god, Ben, yes." She had been trying to keep her eyes open but now she couldn't do it. It was too much. His tongue was curling against her front wall and it felt like he was breathing fire into her. Why did she ever want to distance herself from him? If she had told her sense of morality to go to hell earlier and listened to her heart then she could have had this every night this week.

He finally withdrew his tongue from inside her, and she maybe let a tiny groan escape at that. Her rational side told her that he probably needed to breathe but she still didn't like the loss of contact.

When he spoke, he definitely sounded out of breath, and his voice sounded more gravelly than usual. "You taste sweet."

"It's the sugar," she gasped out. "Why'd you stop?"

"Well, earlier I told you if I went down on you I'd be hard again in a few minutes. And I guess you didn't notice, but uhh..."

She glanced back and sure enough, he was rock hard, a glisten of precum down the head.

"You know what? I want to finish this first. Ignore that for a few more minutes."

She laughed lightly. "I don't know, it's pretty commanding of my attention."

He didn't answer her, instead choosing to glide the flat of his tongue over her clit. His fingers were digging into her hip as he held her against his face, accompanied with her renewed grasp on his hair.

She was definitely babbling out loud, but she was only semi-coherent, though she would bet that a good half was swear words and Ben's name.

His tongue was tracing circles around her clit, with the occasional full-length lick and rimming of her opening.

She felt the surging heat begin in her thighs, and she did her best to keep herself from grinding down on his face.

"Ugh, god, _Ben_ ," she moaned. "You're gonna make me come again."

He flicked his tongue over her clit once, twice, thrice...

At the fourth pass she was gone, falling forward onto one hand, every nerve in her body tingling as if she been electrified. She couldn't even express the feeling in actual words, instead loudly and sharply moaning while trying to catch her breath. She carded her fingers through his hair as a way to let him know she appreciated it without trying to actually speak. His hands still gripped her hips so tightly she fleetingly thought of bruises, and he continued to lap at her in earnest.

"Oh my god," she finally huffed, leaning back away from his face but not moving from her position above him.

"Yeah?" He was smirking, and his mouth glistened slightly in the low light, wet with her.

"Holy crap, Ben!" She chambered downward, planting her center right on on top of his erection and kissed him hungrily and wetly. One hand still entwined in his hair, she grabbed ahold of his tie again, pulling pulling him into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.

"You need to fuck me, right now. Some serious penis-in-vagina interaction and I'm regretting saying that out loud." She winced. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I really do." Hands on her hips, he guided her up a few inches, and then one hand went between her legs to grasp himself. She let a tiny, breathy groan slip as he rubbed the head back and forth between her lips.

"Oh shit, wait--"

"What could possibly be--"

"Leslie, my wallet's downstairs but there's a condom in it, I can go get it."

She shook her head, leaning over (if it hadn't been for his grip on her hips she would've fallen over) to her nightstand, yanking open the second drawer and digging around for the foil packets she knew were in there.

She returned moments later, ripping open the wrapper while scooting back on Ben's lap. And she may have given him a few squeezes as she rolled the condom onto him, but who could blame her? No one, that's who.

"There. Now let's do this. Mr. Wyatt, this is a formal request for you to fuck me senseless."

He grinned and resumed his actions pre-interruption. "I believe you know that you can't expect me to give in to all of your demands, Ms. Knope. Even if you do have the nicest ass in Pawnee." He emphasized his point by running his other hand over it.

As she sunk down onto him, slowly, she replied, "Oh Mr. Wyatt, I'm sure we can come to some sort of an agreement on the matter. Maybe I can ride you until you're yelling my name and seeing stars?"

"Fuck, _Leslie_ ," he groaned, a hand trailing up her torso to cup a breast. "I have... oh god... A counterproposal. You ride me until you are seeing stars."

She'd adjusted to the feeling of him inside her (and really, he had a nice dick. She was not a very big person and that directly correlated to how much her vagina disagreed with big penises but god his was nice) and rose up almost as slow as she had moved down, and then slammed back down.

Ben cried out at that, such a satisfying, erotic noise, and she began rocking back and forth against him. Her arms were around his neck, giving her excellent leverage to fuck him. The hand that had been on her breast began squeezing and gently caressing, and the one on her hip was tightened like a vice. He looked blissful and honestly she wanted to fuck them to the point of exhaustion. Every time she rocked forward her clit rubbed against the base of him, sending surges of warmth throughout her.

"You feel so fucking good," she gasped. He needed to hear the praise, he deserved to plus it was true.

"Leslie," he choked out softly. "Fuck, Leslie, _fuck_."

The rest of of the time was filled with moans and gasps, curse words and each others names. Leslie's thighs were beginning to burn but she studiously ignored it, and Ben's iron grip on her hip was definitely sore but she didn't want him to let go. She'd never been the type of person to enjoy being sore days after sex but she could definitely get used to it.

He finally slipped one hand between them (almost awkwardly) and began rubbing at her clit, earning himself a keening gasp that filled the entire room. It wasn't long before Leslie's nails were dragging across his back, her head thrown back and her walls contracting around him. He kissed her newly-exposed neck as he fell just over the edge, holding her hips down with one hand as she came down from her high. He was gasping and moaning, he realized, quite loudly. And then Leslie was telling him to come for her and he lost it. He was gone. All coherent thought rushed away and he was left with her name on his tongue.

They stayed like that well after he had gone soft inside her, kissing lazily and touching gently.

"I'm cold," she finally whispered, still not opening her eyes.

"Me too."

And with that, they wordlessly cleaned up and got into bed, Ben being big spoon and playing with Leslie's hair until they fell asleep.

~

"Ann!" Leslie rushed into Ann's office, making the other woman jump and drop her pen. "Did you get my video?!"

Scare forgotten, Ann immediately shifted into best friend mode. "Oh my god, yes. So how was it?"

To her surprise, Leslie pulled up the side of her blouse, to reveal bruising along her hip.

"Leslie! What the hell happened? Oh, I am going to kill--"

Leslie dropped the shirt. "No, no, these are good bruises. Nothing bad happened. That's where he was _holding onto me_." There was a grin plastered across her face.

Ann sighed as relief filled her. "Oh god, Leslie, lead with that next time."

"You should see what I accidentally did to Ben's back, Ann. There was blood."

"Oh my god."

 

 


End file.
